


Can I Come Up?

by writeturnlove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Black female reader - Freeform, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeturnlove/pseuds/writeturnlove
Summary: Reader is an employee of Stark Industries, working in Research and Development. She resides at the Avengers facility due to her high security clearance. She is a friend to all of the Avengers, but she’s closest to Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Sam has set Steve and the Reader up on separate blind dates that don’t end well. Luckily for the Reader and Steve, that doesn't seem to be a problem.





	Can I Come Up?

**Can I Come Up? (Steve X Black plus sized Reader)**

By V.C. Turner (writeturnlove) 

         To say you had a horrible time would be an understatement. After six months of staying away from men, you agreed to let Sam fix you up with an attorney he knew from Washington, D.C. His name was David and he spent the entire evening rambling to you about his credentials as if the more he talked, the more impressed you’d be.

         Nothing about him impressed you, so you ended the evening early, advising him that you had a headache, and then sped back to the Avenger’s Facility as quickly as possible.

         After a long shower, you settle into bed and begin read a steamy romance novel to make up for the lack of sexiness you experienced on your date. You are reviewing a particularly sensual paragraph when the phone rings. You look at the clock and see that it is 12:07 a.m.

         Who the hell is calling you this late and why do they assume you are awake? You turn the phone over and see Steve’s name pop up. You smile as you push the answer icon.

         “Hi Steve,” you say.

         “Hey, (y/n),” he answers, his voice sounding a little disappointed.

         “So how was it?” you ask, already knowing the answer based on his tone.

         “Lousy,” he answers, “I guess I’m not cut out for dating in this century.”

         “Sure you are. You’re just out of practice,” you tell him, closing your book and focusing on the sound of his voice. Sure, you have plenty of non-platonic feelings about him, but he is Captain America for God’s sake. There is no way you end up with a superhero. Being his friend is enough for you.

         “Can I, um… Can I come up?” he asks.

         Steve lives three floors beneath you in a suite where he rooms with Sam and Bucky. Sam is the outgoing type, with Bucky being the brooding type, and Steve as the shy type. The First Avenger always has time to talk to you. He tells you things he can’t tell the others because you will listen without any expectations. You don’t offer advice unless he asks for it, and you always give him a genuine smile. To you, he is just Steve Rogers, even if you do occasionally call him “Captain,” for the sole purpose of making the Brooklyn boy blush.

         “Of course,” you tell him, “Come on up.”

         “Cool. I’ll be there in a few. I’ll bring you something, okay,” Steve says, his voice sounding lighter, more relieved.

         Steve has come over dozens of times, including late at night. You’ve stayed up all evening, talking about what life was like in the 1940s, what your dreams were, hobbies, etc.

         You don’t have to look pretty for him, but you still want to display a decent appearance for the handsome super soldier. You remove the hair scarf in which your thick mane is wrapped and brush it in a style that accentuates your medium brown, heart-shaped face. You brush your teeth and add a shiny caramel-colored lip-gloss to your mouth. You refuse to be a slob in his presence. You’re donning a long pink knit shirt and a pair of black yoga pants that seem to flatter your luscious, full figure. It’s probably too casual an outfit for meeting someone so handsome, but you’re still rocking the look, even at midnight.

         After a few minutes, you hear a soft knock on your door. Although you are expecting him, you glance through the peephole before you open the door. Your heart flutters a little when you note the light blue polo shirt and dark blue jeans. While he looks good in anything, seeing him in “Date Night” clothing makes you a fight back a nervous smile. You hope he doesn’t notice it as you open the door. His hands are behind his back and he gives you a little smirk before handing you a large frozen pizza.

         “Ah…I love a man who comes bearing gifts,” you tell him when he walks inside.

         He gives you the same big hug he always gives you when he visits. He’s a nice guy like that. It also doesn’t hurt that he constantly smells incredible; even when he’s not wearing cologne. You go in the kitchen and preheat the oven. The exhaustion you felt earlier vanishes knowing that you are finally spending time with someone you actually like.

         “By the way … how did you know I was awake?” you ask him, as you slide the pizza into the oven.

         “It’s Friday night,” he points out, “You always stay up late on Friday nights – curled up with a book because you know you can sleep in late on Saturday morning.”

         You turn to him and frown.

         “Good Lord, have I become that predictable and boring?” you ask, hoping he wouldn’t confirm it.

         Steve walks over and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He places a quick kiss to your temple. You aren’t surprised. He usually does this. It’s a sweet, innocent gesture, but inwardly you enjoy the feel of his warm, soft lips against your skin.

         “(Y/N), you’re not predictable or boring. I just know you well, that’s all,” he assures you.

         You soon settle into a familiar routine with the lead Avenger: staying up late and eating junk food while watching a science fiction movie. You love the nerdy side of him. Steve grabs two sodas from the fridge and heads to the living room. You turn down the lights and check the timer for the pizza.

         As you walk around sofa, Steve pats the cushion next to him. He chooses a random movie and you attempt to focus on the television.

         “So tell me about your date?” he asks.

         “Not much to tell, really. He spent most of the date talking up his work experience like I’m some Human Resources Manager,” you tell him, “The guy also made way too much noise when he ate.”

         Steve chuckles.

         “Sounds fun,” he says sarcastically.

         “What happened on yours?” you ask, turning to him and raising an eyebrow.

         “Let’s see: she spent so much time on her phone I thought we’d have to order dinner for three,” he says.

         It’s your turn to chuckle as he continues to go over his evening.

         “She also asked me about being Captain America and if I had any superhero talents in the bedroom,” he adds.

         “You’re kidding?”

         “No, I’m not,” he says.

         “Sounds like she wanted some superhero di-- Never mind,” you state, censoring yourself because you knew he’s mostly an old-fashioned guy and you probably shouldn’t say the word “dick” around him.

         Steve turns a bright shade of red anyway because he knows what you wanted to say. He always seems to know what you’re thinking.

         “Like I said, I’m not cut out for it. Dating isn’t about romance anymore. It’s about finding someone you like sleeping with and can tolerate,” he sorrowfully asserts.

         “It’s not always like that,” you insist, “Women in this millennium do want respect and equality, but they also want to know that chivalry isn’t dead. They want you to hold the door open for them; not because you think they’re weak, but because you think they deserve to be put first.”

         “Is that what you want?” he asks.

         “Well, yeah, I guess I’m one of those women, but we’re not talking about me,” you say, not looking at him. Your heart drops a little as the words fall from your lips. He’s not yours. He’s never going to be yours. You’re just content to be in his life. That’s enough.

         From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you. Steve smiles as he pulls you into his arms to cuddle. You have snuggled with him before, so you are not surprised when he does it tonight. You’re his friend and he likes holding you because you’re round and soft; not because men like him would find you sexy. It’s platonic. It’s as simple as that.

         A brief silence falls between the two of you as the movie continues to play on the screen. You aren’t paying attention it. You focus on the sound of his heartbeat. The rhythm is strong. There is a reassurance in that sound that tends to calm you. You know you’re safe when he’s around and it has nothing to do with the fact that he is, in fact, a superhero.

         “Well, Sam’s a good guy, but he sucks at matchmaking,” Steve asserts, giving you a squeeze.

         “His heart is in the right place, I guess. He wants you happy,” you tell him.

         “He wants you happy, too,” Steve points out.

         After you both chow down on the pizza, he pulls you back into his arms again, only this time you laugh at the gesture because you note that he is pretty much a big softie with a shield.     

         “I think they should call you Captain Cuddle and put a teddy bear on your shield instead of a star,” you suggest.

         He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

         “I only cuddle with you,” he notes, “And sometimes Tony.”

         You begin to giggle and bury your face in his neck. He laughs with you and that sound is one you could never get tired of hearing.

         “God, I love you, Steve,” you blurt out – the words slip out of your mouth while you’re laughing and before you have a chance to stop them. Yes, you’ve said it before during a moment like this, and he’s said the same to you. Nevertheless, you start to panic.

         “Well I only cuddle with people _I_ love,” Steve insists.

         “Except Sam and Bucky,” you tease.

         “You’re prettier, softer, and you smell a lot better,” he says softly as his lips brush against your forehead.

         “Thank you, Captain Cuddle,” you say. You begin to feel more comfortable because he doesn’t seem to be phased by your “I love you” comment.

         After the first movie ends, you quickly choose another film to pass the time; an action movie. You feel Steve’s heartbeat pick up as he strokes your hair and stares at the television.

         “I didn’t kiss her, you know,” he finally states after several minutes of silence.

         “Why not?” you ask him.

         “I didn’t want to. Besides, Natasha says I’m bad at it,” Steve explains.

         Your muscles stiffen although you have no right to feel jealous. She’s a beautiful superhero too. Of course they kissed at some point. Still, curiosity gets the better of you.

         “You kissed Natasha?” you ask. You want to add that it’s none of your business, but in reality, his statement did sting a little. You can’t compete with Natasha’s sex appeal or the fact that she’s Black Widow in her day job.

         “It’s a long story. The short version is that we were trying to blend in while being chased by Hydra. We’re not like that… _Honestly_ ,” he insists.

         “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that,” you admit.

         Steve shakes his head and gives you another squeeze.

         “It’s fine. I don’t mind telling you about it,” he innocently points out.

         “Still, I doubt you are a bad kisser,” you tell him. You start to mindlessly fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt because you just can’t look him in the eye right now.

         “Well, as old fashioned as it sounds – I just don’t do that on the first date,” Steve says, “Especially when I don’t like the woman I’m with.”

         “I don’t kiss on the first date either,” you mumble, “And there’s nothing wrong with being old fashioned.”

         You breathe in his scent again and pretend to watch the movie even though you have no idea what it is about. Steve holds you close with one arm and uses his other hand to run his fingers up and down the arm you have draped around his mid-section. His breathing slows a little and you think he might be falling asleep.

         Then he speaks.

         “Tell me something: would you prefer it if a guy asked you for a kiss instead of just going for it?” he inquires.

         “I’ve been asked before. I always thought it was sweet. Besides, I’m sure if you asked a woman you liked, I doubt she would say ‘no’ to you,” you tell him, settling back into his shoulder.

         “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

         “Yeah, next time you’re on a date, just say it like that,” you recommend.

         Steve sits back a little and turns your face to his. He looks in your eyes and the expression on his face turns serious.

         “No. I meant: Can I kiss _you_?” Steve asks.

         His words barely register in your brain as you try to determine if you’re actually awake or if you’ve slipped into a dream without realizing it. He glances between your eyes and your lips and suddenly you don’t care if you are awake or not. You give him a nod, but realize that neither of you really knows what to do next.

         Steve rubs the pad of his right thumb across your lips, leans in, and kisses you softly. Your eyes close because it feels like heaven. You know it’s real because he tastes like root beer and pizza but you don’t care.

         He seems cautious at first, his lips parting slowly and caressing each of yours individually. You let out a soft moan and place your hand on the side of his neck, praying he kisses you harder because you believe you will go insane if he doesn’t.

         He grants your silent wish, pulling you closer with his right arm and running his fingers through your hair with his left. He kisses you with a little more passion and you wait for his tongue to dance with yours, but he holds back for some reason. Permission. He wants permission. You part your lips and lightly brush your tongue against his. That is all the permission he needs.

         His tongue starts a slow waltz with yours. You feel yourself floating and only barely notice that he is scooping you into his lap without separating his mouth from yours. Your mind and heart are caught up in the romance of the moment. Your body comes alive as you feel his hands slip under the back of your shirt and caress your skin.

         You want him. God, you want him, but you also refuse to scare him off. It’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone, but it’s been even longer for Steve. His hands find their way back up your body and he cups your face as you continue to kiss, then he reluctantly pulls away. Your eyes remain closed for a few seconds because you just want to stay in the moment as long as possible.

         Steve places his cheek against yours. Neither of you speak for at least a minute. The only sound in the room is the low drone of the television set and the raspy breathing that comes from both of you.

         “That was…” he starts to say.

         “I know,” you tell him.

         Once he finally catches his breath again, he whispers in your ear.

         “So, am I bad at it?” he asks.

         Still reeling from the unexpected kiss, you almost forget to answer his question.

         “No, Steve. You’re perfect,” you admit.

         You’re shaking a little in his arms. He must have noticed you shiver because he pulls you even closer to him and begins to rub your back. Both innocent and indecent thoughts fill your head. You try to focus, but find it difficult since you never expected this to happen in the first place. This moment feels so real yet so impossible at the same time.

         You place your forehead to his, searching for the right thing to say and in utter terror of messing up this beautiful moment. You find yourself filled with even more insecurity than normal. You bite your lip; a question dying to burst from your lips until it finally does.

         “What do you want?” you ask him.

         “Honestly?” he says.

         “Always.”

         “If I’m going to spend tonight in bed with someone, I want it to be you,” he whispers, brushing the hair from the side of your face and kissing your cheek.

         “Can good friends make love? Should they?” you ask, breathlessly.

         He backs up and looks you in the eyes, seeing through you like always. He lifts your chin.

         “Do you want to be more than friends?” he asks.

         “Yes,” you admit.

         “Good, because so do I,” he tells you.

         You stand up and take his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Your palms are sweaty and you shake inside, but nothing other than an act of God will stop you from spending the night in this man’s arms. Every feeling you held back for so long suddenly comes bubbling to the surface. Fear and caution mix with excitement and arousal.

         Once you reach the dimly lit bedroom, you walk over and turn out the small lamp by your bed. You feel nervous about him seeing you naked. You’re not a well-built Avenger. You have curves, some of which are in all the right places, but you are still worried about the way you look to someone so perfectly sculpted.

         Steve walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

         “Why did you do that?” he asks, his voice soft and cajoling. He presses a kiss to your right shoulder and you find that you can barely stand up on your wobbly legs.

         “I…I don’t want you to see me just yet,” you admit. You bite your lip as he turns you around. The moonlight casts a blue glow around the room. It’s just enough light to see his cerulean eyes look down at you with an earnest expression.

         “Well, I want to see you,” he says.

         Steve turns on the light beside your bed, and then looks you up and down.

         “Steve, I’m not built like Natasha or Wanda. I’m brains and buns, not brains and brawn,” you tell him.

         “Show me,” he insists as he stands just inches from you, waiting for you to undress.

         “I’m nervous,” you confess.

         “So am I,” he says, “Look, we don’t have to do anything. I’m happy just lying next to you – kissing you ‘till we fall asleep.”

         You smile at him, and then somehow gather the courage to stand on your tiptoes and place a kiss to his lips. His arms wrap around you, as the innocence of the moment is quickly lost to the awakening desire bubbling deep within your core. You come to the immediate realization that just kissing this man isn’t going to be enough – it will never again be enough.

       You feel the warmth creeping up from your chest as it slowly rises up and burns your cheeks. Your mouth turns dry, so you lick your lips. He’s watching you with a bashful smile on his face. He then pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it behind him.

         As he stands half-naked in front of you, you gaze at his smooth chest hair, which fans out across his broad, muscular torso. You want to touch it and the scariest part of it is that tonight you will get the chance. Your hands itch in anticipation. You can’t understand how one man could be so perfect.

         “It’s your turn,” he says quietly, distracting you from your admiration of his form.

         In that instant, you begin wonder what kind of women he’s been with. Certainly he had never been with anyone who looked like you. He grew up in the early part of the 20th century. Interracial dating occurred rarely, if at all in his world. You start to panic, wondering if he really wants to see a naked, full-figured black woman. Yes, he kissed you, but that doesn’t mean his attraction to you will go beyond your lips.

         He reaches down and pulls your shirt over your head. At first, you hold it in front of you, hiding your body from his gaze. Steve slowly removes the shirt from your hands and drops it on the floor. You cover yourself with your arms.

         Steve frowns, then takes your hands in his and pulls your arms away from covering your body. He kicks off his shoes and pulls off his socks before finally removing his jeans and nudging them out of the way. He stands in front of you, his erection threatening to burst through the dark grey boxer briefs he’s wearing. Your perceived lack of perfection doesn’t seem to diminish his arousal.

         He unclasps your bra and tosses it on the bed behind him. His eyes never leave your full breasts as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulls them down along with your pants. You step out of your clothes, feeling both insecure and eager about what will happen next.

         You lick your lips as your eyes travel down his chest, past his navel, to his tented underwear. Your mind and body have lost communication with one another. You don’t know what to say or do and you worry you will ruin the moment if you don’t do something soon.

         “What do you want?” you ask him in a breathy moan.

         “Lie down with me,” he says, his tone so soft and reassuring you have no choice but to obey.

         He removes his underwear and gracefully slides into bed. You don’t get a chance to see him naked because he’s already covered up and patting the mattress. You slide in next to him, covering yourself as you look over at him. You realize you have no idea what to do next as you never thought this would happen. You dreamed about this moment, but always woke up before you got a chance to kiss him, much less make love with him.

         Steve removes the comforter covering you. He uses his left hand to caress your face, and then trails the hand down your neck. He circles your breasts, paying special attention to each one as goose bumps pepper the skin beneath his fingertips. He seems to be studying you, appreciating you, basking in every inch of you as your core floods with moisture. His gaze appears sweet, almost innocent, however his hands are igniting every millimeter of your body.

         You’re squirming under his touch. You need to do something, anything to help you manage the sweet sensations he provides as he explores you. You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair. He looks into your eyes, then his gaze drops to your lips. You feel compelled to pull his face toward you, so you do, and he captures your mouth in a kiss.

         There is more eagerness in his touch now. His lips and his tongue are exploring your mouth while his hands are finding and creating new erogenous zones on your body. Once he breaks the kiss, his mouth attaches to your neck, licking, sucking and nibbling there. His name becomes a faint whisper on your lips.

         “Don’t you want to touch me?” Steve asks.

         “Yes,” you manage to whisper, but your hand is shaking as you reach for him. The moment is surreal. You never anticipated this moment and now it’s here.

         Steve reaches for your right hand and places it on his chest. You feel the softness and warmth of his skin. For some reason, you thought it would feel hot to the touch – as if his superior metabolism would incinerate your fingertips the moment your skin met his.

         The air in the room shifts. You feel his long, hot erection pressing against your upper left thigh. Everything changes in this moment. Friendship and curiosity melt away with each silently shared caress. This man is making you feel everything for him and he seems to feel the same way about you.

         A soft growl escapes his lips as he climbs on top of you, his lips attaching to yours in a searing kiss that claims your mind, body and heart all at once. You return the kiss as your hands trail up and down his back, soon cupping his perfect ass in your petite hands. You feel him grind against you. His manhood brushes against your soaking sex and you arch into him, your thighs opening up as you wait for him to slip inside you, putting the both of you out of your combined misery.

         Nevertheless, you quickly realize that the First Avenger has more teasing to do.

         Steve kisses a path from your chin to valley between your breasts. You bite your lip to keep from moaning in anticipation for what he’ll do next. You don’t have to wait long. His tongue trails a path to your left nipple, making you squirm beneath him. He makes several circles around the erect bud before finally sucking it into is mouth. He flicks the tip and you feel as if you’re going to burst into flames at any moment.

         His attention then turns to your right nipple. He laves at it almost mercilessly as you writhe beneath him. You are tingling from the wet trails left by his tongue. Your breathing becomes heavier as you try to process all of the sensations he’s giving you – both physical and emotional.

         Steve looks in your eyes and he kisses downward to your stomach. He is silently communicating his intention as a small smile curls at the corner of his mouth. His hot breath tickles your inner thighs as he kisses and nibbles on your soft flesh. His nose brushes against your clit. He then slides two fingers up and down your inner walls while gently grazing your sensitive nub. Your body continues to act on instinct. You grind against his hand, hoping that he will move faster and bring you closer to your release. He doesn’t. Instead, you are rocked by the sensation of his tongue connecting with your clit just as a long finger slides inside of you.

         “Steve!” you scream. You grasp the sheets around you and hold on for dear life.

         Steve takes his time, drawing your clit between his lips, flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it; and all the while he continues to stimulate your g-spot with his middle finger. You bite your lip so hard you think you’ve drawn blood. Your eyes shut and you issue a silent, grateful prayer.

         His talented tongue threatens to send you over the edge much too soon. You force yourself to hold your orgasm a bay. You don’t want to come like this. You want him inside you. You need to feel him inside you. You want to look into his eyes as he makes love to you.

         As you feel the pleasure building inside you, Steve pulls back, leaving you missing his touch. He kisses his way back up your quivering body, repeating every kiss and lick he’s already given you tonight. He makes his way to your lips and kisses you softly with the taste of your arousal still on his mouth.

         Steve breaks the kiss and hovers over you, looking into your eyes with his blue orbs. He seems uncertain; almost as uncertain as you are. You reach down, grabbing his length in your hands and stroking it. His eyes close for a moment and his breath hitches. You slowly guide his thick tip inside you as your body adjusts to his rigid cock. Nothing compares to this – the sensation of this man beginning to fill you up … body, mind and soul.

         You both moan simultaneously as he slips his way deeper inside your channel, savoring every inch of your treasure as you delight in every inch of his heat.

         “Oh my God,” he groans, “You feel so fucking good.”

         “Language!” you tease, giving him a playful pinch on the butt.

         Steve chuckles into your shoulder. He gives you a small bite on the neck that tickles, but it does not stop his momentum. He’s rocking into you slow and deep and your body bows upward with each movement. Your eyes roll back in your head. Your pants and moans are matched evenly with his.

         You can’t control the sounds you’re making. You keep crying his out his name in escalating mantra as you feel each of his strokes tease, taunt, and tantalize your G-Spot. His kisses are soft. His rhythm is gentle and steady. His hands dig into your scalp as you arch your back into him and he seizes the moment to make another small bite on your neck. He places wet kisses along your collarbone until he finally returns to your mouth, which he claims with a kiss so hot that you know no one else will ever come close to making you feel this way.

         You fantasized about this very moment – his heat slipping deeper into yours, but those dreams don’t match the intense, hot reality of this man connecting with your body in such an intimate embrace. Your fingers rake up and down his back. You’re both holding on for dear life. You hear him whisper your name between thrusts and swears. Time seems to stand still – each moment playing in slow motion as you meet each other’s movements in perfect harmony.

         Your orgasm begins to crest slowly, spreading out from your core like the high tide washing over your entire body. Steve quickens his pace as he feels your sex clench and spasm around him. He’s taking your body to an impossible high. Your nails dig into his flesh. Steve begins to pump harder, his thrusts more determined since he knows your close and he seems to want to tumble over the edge with you.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, your orgasm slams into you like a precious revelation. You scream his name, not caring if the neighbors hear you right now. You’re still riding your high when, seconds later, Steve stiffens, then shudders above you, emptying himself inside you and punctuating his release with another soft kiss to your lips.

         He rolls over and pulls you into his arms. He’s kissing your neck in what feels like gratitude. You place your hands on his forearms as your body finally begins to calm down. You turn to face him. His eyes scan your face. He caresses your cheek and places a kiss to your forehead.

         “You’re amazing, (y/n),” he whispers.

         You don’t have the energy to respond. You smile at him and he returns the expression. Steve quickly rises and heads to the bathroom. He returns with a warm, wet washcloth and a towel slung over his shoulder. After gently cleaning the two of you up, he lies down next to you, stroking your hair from your face.

         “Steve?”

         “Mmm hmm,” he mumbles into your ear.

         “What happens now?” you ask, your insecurity rising a little.

         Steve lifts your chin and kisses the tip of your nose.

         “You tell me you love me. I say it back. We fall asleep,” he says.

         “I love you,” you whisper to him, tears filling your eyes.

         “I love you too,” Steve says, his hands interlacing with yours.

         Your eyes close as he holds you and your body finally succumbs to sleep.

 


End file.
